Grammar Nazis, A True Terror To Behold
by TsunamiHatake
Summary: Severus Snape is the true Grammar Nazi, even Voldemort knows it :) Rated M for language. [COMPLETE] :D


**A/N: Firstly, shout out to a very special group on Facebook for giving me the inspiration for this one. It's a bit different from what I usually do, but I had to get this out. We were talking about Beta-types, someone said something about Severus being a strict Grammar Nazis, and then someone else mentioned that Snape wouldn't be so hard on Voldemort, and *bam* here we are. HEY. GRAMMAR CAN BE EVIL TOO. XD I suppose this is supposed to be humorous. I'll let you decide :) **

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"_Severus_! What is the meaning of this!"

Voldemort stormed through the gates of Snape Manor, roaring ferociously before he even reached the front door. Using all his might, he materialized his body through the stone walls until he reached the innermost chambers of the house. The Dark Lord merely waved his hand in a fit of rage and the door to Severus Snape's office obliterated to mere dust and ash before he swept into the room unannounced.

Severus didn't need to look up. He held a hand up solemnly to silence His Master as he finished his scribbling in a leather-bound journal. He needed full concentration as he wrote a few more items on his list of substances known to react positively to powdered Asphodel root. It was a matter of life and death for a potion he needed to complete soon. The task required his full attention and he desperately needed to finish his thought, uninterrupted, or so be doomed if he forgot at a later time. Voldemort would just have to understand.

The Dark Lord in question stood there, mouth agape in mid sentence.

'Did Severus Snape just shush me?' Voldemort thought to himself as he gasped, 'The audacity!'

He sputtered before Snape turned his black eyes innocently up at him.

"My Lord?" he asked, impatiently. Impatiently. Severus Snape had the nerve to use that tone with him!

"What is the meaning of this?!" He spat visible venom as he slammed a wide piece of parchment in front of Severus, easily recognizable as a draft to Voldemort's 'Evil Villain Convention' speech that was torn to bits by a neat script in red ink.

"I am not sure as to what the problem is, My Lord," Severus raised an eyebrow at the parchment before continuing, "You asked for corrections, and so I corrected. Are you standing here before me to say that you are unsatisfied with what I have marked? What servitude would I uphold if I were to allow you trip over such mundane attempts at speech making? Not to mention the fact you will have to have your speech read and approved before the Board of Directors," Severus snarled, upper lip curled in a most unpleasant manner. "They will dock you for spelling and grammar regardless of Your Highness in Evilry. I have upheld the task you asked me, your speech is nothing short of perfection if you follow my marks, My Lord."

Severus sat back in his seat and steepled his fingers, eyes narrowed at the livid expression on Voldemort's face.

"You dare-" Voldemort clenched his fists as his magic rippled in electric currents around the air, "You dare ridicule my writing-"

"Oh calm down, you middle-aged drama queen. Come, sit properly and I shall explain to you why I wrote what I chose to mark."

Severus waved his wand wordlessly and a small stool appeared next his seat. Voldemort openly glared, too stunned to even want to Crucio the man who sat in front of him, awaiting him to sit down so he could _explain_ how to write! He was so utterly _mortified_ to the point that, without further arguments, he moved to sit comfortably on the stool. Severus sighed marginally as he rested his temple on two fingers, as if he were in great pain at his incompetence! The fool!

"Firstly, and frankly, the format of your speech is downright unacceptable."

Fury. Absolute fury pierced Voldemort's mind. He would kill this bastard! 'Fear your life, Severus Snape! Fear!' he thought to himself, but he sat perfectly still as Severus began his rant.

"If you are preparing to speak in public, you need to be as organized as you can possibly afford, My Lord. Start with the spacing of your words, and write legibly! You absolutely do not need to waste time fumbling over scrawny chicken-scratch!" Severus referenced the wide red box symbols that lined the paper.

"Editorialized comments, while humorous, are indeed frowned upon, My Lord. You are the Dark Lord for fuck's sake, you do not _do_ humor. Stick with the subject matter at hand, do not dawdle.

"Next, your grammar. See here," Severus pointed to a specific paragraph, "You are casting commas about like you Crucio us, My Lord, or did that particular clause serve you a purpose? Watch how you word your phrases. I cannot stress verb tenses enough!"

"There is no 'ue' in 'argument'," Severus dipped his own quill tip around the offending words as he spoke, "Here you meant 'they're', not 'their', and 'exception' not 'acception'. That just does not make any sense. Commonly mistaken words, I assure you, but all could be avoided if you invest in a thesaurus or a dictionary, My Lord."

"With all due respect, My Lord, 'moronic imbeciles' should best be moved _here_, you daft prat. It is any wonder you are so _charismatic_ with your words yet you do not yield any talent in a simple writing task. Tsk tsk.

"My Lord, I hope I have managed to teach you something other than freely handing out the Cruciatus Curse as a parting gift, as enlightening as that may be," Severus pushed the parchment closer to Voldemort without a glance and sat back in his chair, his fingers once again steepled at the tips, awaiting His Lord's answer. Voldemort, however..

He certainly surprised both himself and Severus when he laughed. A deep, hearty doubled over in a knee curling position laughter erupted from the maniacal being as he gripped Severus' arm to steady himself.

Oh, Voldemort learned a few things while listening to Severus alright. Firstly, the man obviously had more balls than the rest of his Death Eaters. Yes, Severus Snape had a right pair to correct the Dark Lord in grammar skills and not be killed within the first three seconds. Secondly, Voldemort had been right to come to Severus. He didn't need to be coddled, he needed to hear the truth, and Severus delivered. Voldemort knew this was a man he could trust, and he did not trust blindly. He never put faith in anyone but himself, but he needed someone loyal enough to stand by his side as he ruled the world. If Severus had the gall to stand up to Voldemort, the man certainly would not falter in front of someone less powerful. Severus was, by nature, rude and sarcastic, spouting insults at the drop of a dime.

And yet, Voldemort found himself with a renewed appreciation for the man seated to his right. Irony, it seemed, was fond of all things tall, dark, and brooding.

He stood, still laughing madly, of course, and pat Severus' shoulder approvingly.

"My faith in you shall never change, Severus," he replied as he tucked the parchment away within his robes and Disapparated from the premises.

Severus closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he crossed his legs elegantly, a small smirk splayed across his thin lips as he felt the last traces of electricity charge the air before disappearing completely. His goal was obtained.


End file.
